


Bad Tidings and Good Luck Charms

by Fenchurch87



Series: Tales of Kirkwall (and Beyond) [27]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 13:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19063717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenchurch87/pseuds/Fenchurch87
Summary: Marian Hawke receives a letter from Varric. Originally written in response to a writing prompt on /r/dragonage.





	Bad Tidings and Good Luck Charms

“Shit.” Marian Hawke threw Varric's letter down on the table and dropped her head into her hands. “Why can't one thing in this fucking world just stay fixed?”

“Bad news?” A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she looked up into Anders's concerned face.

“You could say that.” She nodded towards the letter and watched the furrows in his brow deepen as he read.

“Andraste's flaming knickers,” he muttered, placing the letter back on the table.

“Indeed.” Hawke rubbed her temples and tried to gather her thoughts. “Are you alright, Anders?” she asked. “You're not... hearing anything, are you?”

“No. I promise,” he added, at her questioning look. “I would tell you if I was. I don't think I'd be able to hide it.”

She nodded. “Perhaps he can't reach us here. That's one good thing, at least. I should warn Carver. Tell him to stay in the Marches until this is over. He probably won't listen, but I have to try. Alistair, too. He said he was worried about the Wardens being corrupted. Maybe it was Corypheus all long.” She paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she considered her next words. “I have to go, Anders.”

“No you don't,” he replied immediately. “You don't always have to be the hero, love. You've done enough. Let this Eve Trevelyan have her moment.”

“It's not about being the hero. Why does everyone think it's about being the fucking hero?” Hawke took a calming breath before continuing. “It's about doing what's right. It's my fault Corypheus is back. I set him free.”

“You killed Corypheus. I saw him die. You couldn't have known what he was capable of. None of us could.” Anders took her hand and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “None of this is your fault, Hawke.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded grudgingly. “Still, I should try to help. In whatever way I can.”

Anders opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again when his eyes met hers. “I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?” he said with a soft laugh.

“I'm afraid not.”

“Alright.” He smiled and squeezed her hand again. “It's too late to set off today. It'll be dark in a few hours. But we should start packing. And one of us should go to the store before it closes, to pick up some supplies.”

“Anders–”

“We'll have to decide what to do with Ser Purr-a-lot,” he continued. “Maybe we could leave him with Mistress Marsa. The children love him. Or we could take him with us. If Ser Pounce-a-lot can come to the Deep Roads, I'm sure Ser Purr-a-lot can come to Skyhold.”

“Anders, listen. Please.” Why did he have to make this so hard? “I'm going alone.”

Anders stood up abruptly, a shadow passing across his face as he turned away. Hawke followed him to the window and wrapped her arms around him. She could feel him trembling underneath her hands.

“I'm sorry, my love” she whispered. “You know I would take you with me if I could. But Corypheus– I can't take that risk. I can't lose you to him.”

Anders said nothing, but she thought she felt a little of the tension leave his body.

“And then there's the Chantry,” she continued. “Val Royeaux may have denounced the Inquisition as a band of heretics, but it has too many Chantry connections for my liking. And there is still an arrest warrant with your name on it. I can't lose you to them either.”

“You're right,” Anders murmured into her shoulder. “Of course you're right. I just– I would be happier if I could be there with you.”

“I know. So would I.”

Anders stepped out of her arms and raised his hands to his neck, his fingers searching under his tunic. “Here,” he said, finally meeting her gaze as he pulled out the Tevinter amulet she had given him so long ago. “I probably should have died a hundred times by now, yet somehow I'm still here. I think this has brought me luck. Perhaps it can bring you luck too.”

“Thank you.” Hawke took the amulet and ran a finger over the tarnished metal before securing it around her neck. She found the clasp of her own Sacred Heart necklace and unfastened it carefully. “You should have this, then. For luck. And so you don't forget about me.”

“I don't think there's any chance of that.” Anders chuckled briefly, but the laughter didn't quite reach his eyes. “Take care, Hawke.”

“I will.” She pulled him close and kissed him softly. “I'll write to you whenever I can. And I'll come home as soon as this is over. I promise.”

“Make sure you do,” he warned. “Or I might have to come after you.”

“Okay.” She smiled and brushed her lips against his again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hawke considered herself a poor Andrastian, but she offered up a silent prayer all the same. _Take care of him for me_ , she pleaded. _Please, Maker. Keep him safe until I come home._

 


End file.
